


F/K ficbits, unrelated, written on LJ years ago

by sli



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-04
Updated: 2007-09-04
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:40:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sli/pseuds/sli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The prompts from this week are prompting some fabulous and fabulously hurty snippets, leading the excellent snippetress <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://spuffyduds.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://spuffyduds.livejournal.com/"><b>spuffyduds</b></a> to mention that the prompts gun, carried, heartbeat, and "another promise I couldn't keep" are hard to work into a snippet with such happy fluffiness as, say, puppies and cotton candy. Because this is the kind of challenge I can't resist, *cough<a href="http://slidellra.livejournal.com/23117.html">Lieutenant Kinky</a>cough* I wrote this. *beams*<a id="cutid1-end" name="cutid1-end"></a></p>
<p>Also available as <a href="http://slidellra.livejournal.com/49290.html">audiofic!</a></p></blockquote>





	1. Broken

Of the "somebody had to do it" variety. <100 words in which, um, seven or eight things are broken. F/K, PG. [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/) looked at an earlier version of this for me.

 

A kiss, utterly unexpected, overwhelmingly soft and rough and _real_ and _now_ and...

"Shit, oh shit. Sorry--I didn't mean--I _won't_. I _swear_ , Fraser."

Fraser's previous record from desk to office door was 2.3 seconds, and that time a child's life had been at stake.

The sound Ray made when Fraser caught him, and, happier, those he made later.

Fraser's left bootlace wouldn't give, _wouldn't_.

The vase blocked the window, and the window was Dief's exit.

The cot was on its last legs anyway. The desk chair was something of a surprise.

 

*


	2. Chapter 2

A little something for [](http://eledhwenlin.livejournal.com/profile)[**eledhwenlin**](http://eledhwenlin.livejournal.com/), because she's awesome and it's her birthday.

Wound up, F/K, R

 

Maybe Ray was a little wound up.

Maybe Ray'd had the kind of day that _got_ a guy wound up, dodging bullets and explosive-stuffed teddy bears, and pulling his partner out of the line of fire, out from before a speeding truck, and out from the burning wreck of what had once been an unmarked.

And maybe the exploding stuffed teddy bears freaked him out more than they should have.

So when Frannie swung around the corner of the 2-7 hallway right in front of them, slid into a wide-legged firing stance and squinted down the barrel at Fraser, between the blood pounding in his ears and the automatic, instinctive take-down, the only real thought Ray had was _Shit, she found out about us_ and then he had her arm up behind her back, the gun falling to the floor with a too-light clatter.

And maybe it took a minute for his pulse to quiet down enough to hear Frannie's angry shrieking and see Fraser standing there, unperforated and saying his name.

So that was kind of a mess.

Frannie yelled about squirt guns and crazy cops, and Ray yelled about pulling guns _on_ crazy cops, and Fraser sacrificed a whole hell of a lot of his personal space to get between them and distract Frannie, and then Ray found himself in the supply closet.

He blinked and looked around. How'd Fraser do that?

Didn't matter. Ray wasn't finished, so he opened his mouth to let loose on Fraser. Hard to yell, though, with Fraser's hand over his mouth. Ray was about to go atomic, but Fraser wrapped his other arm around Ray's shoulders and replaced his hand with his lips, and Ray hadn't kissed Fraser all day. Ray gripped Fraser's shoulders, stiff wool and firm muscle under his fingers, and crowded Fraser back against the shelves, kissing him all the way.

It was Fraser, though, who went straight for their cocks, got them out of their pants and coaxed Ray hard and even had a handkerchief ready for clean-up, because there was one thing to remember about Fraser, and that was he was nuts.

Ray shuddered and bit his lip and bit Fraser's lip and came in no time flat, 'cause it had been a five alarm day and he'd discovered that his stamina went down every time one of them nearly croaked. So he moaned into Fraser's mouth and gave it up and kept his hand moving on their cocks, his fingers laced with Fraser's. He pulled away just far enough to appreciate Fraser's neck flushing and his mouth opening and the sweet, sweet sound he didn't make as he came into the handy dandy handkerchief.

After Fraser tidied up, Ray leaned close again, letting Fraser pet the back of his neck, slow fingers caressing his hair and sweat-damp skin.

"It was a good day's work," Fraser said, post-orgasmic and post-arrest satisfaction in his voice.

Ray groaned and turned his face into Fraser's shoulder. Fraser's tunic smelled of sweat and gasoline and his back must be hurting and Ray thought maybe they should get those capes after all.

"Yeah. Another round for the good guys." It came out muffled, mumbled into Fraser's shoulder, but Fraser nodded anyway.

"Ray?"

"Not gonna apologize. She started it."

"Hm."

And that was that. Ray wanted to get out of there, wanted to go home, wanted food and a bath and nobody shooting at them, but he stayed where he was for a while. Fraser was stroking the back of his neck and breathing, and that was good.

 

 

 

*


	3. County Fair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompts from this week are prompting some fabulous and fabulously hurty snippets, leading the excellent snippetress [](http://spuffyduds.livejournal.com/profile)[**spuffyduds**](http://spuffyduds.livejournal.com/) to mention that the prompts gun, carried, heartbeat, and "another promise I couldn't keep" are hard to work into a snippet with such happy fluffiness as, say, puppies and cotton candy. Because this is the kind of challenge I can't resist, *cough[Lieutenant Kinky](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/23117.html)cough* I wrote this. *beams*
> 
> Also available as [audiofic!](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/49290.html)

 

Ray had joined Diefenbaker at one of the booths, the two of them leaning towards each other conspiratorially. Fraser smiled at the image, and remembered the promise he'd made to himself--approximately thirty seconds after meeting Ray--not to be swayed by his obvious charm.

Approaching, he heard Ray ask "You sure? The red one?" and Dief's affirmative whine. Ray exchanged brief words with the attendant, then fished out his glasses. Noticing Fraser mid-glasses-retrieval, Ray shrugged and shot him a wink. Fraser nodded in return and remembered the promise he'd made to himself--approximately two days after meeting Ray--to think of him merely as partner and friend.

Ray's long fingers were sure on the gun, poorly balanced and light as it was. His thumb and two fingers of his right hand still bore pink stains from the treat he'd devoured earlier. They'd be slightly sticky, Fraser imagined. Ray braced one hand with the other, fingers wrapped around his wrist, and fired six shots in quick succession, deadly accurate even in play. Fraser felt a sharp rush of desire, and remembered how he'd promised himself--approximately eight days after meeting Ray--to keep his feelings a closely guarded secret.

Ray accepted his prize, a stuffed toy in the form of an improbably red puppy, and held it out for Dief. "Here, wolf. Now can we go home?"

Dief didn't bother to reply, just snatched the toy and headed for the exit, the puppy's ears flopping as Dief ran.

Throwing an arm over Fraser's shoulders, Ray repeated, "Now can we go home?" His breath was hot and sweet on Fraser's cheek, and predictably, reliably, Fraser's pulse quickened. He swallowed and started walking, promising himself he'd wait until they were back at the apartment before finding out what cotton candy tasted like on Ray's skin.

 

*


	4. Uggded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First line from "Tomorrow and Ever After," a scorching bit of porn by [](http://ximeria.livejournal.com/profile)[**ximeria**](http://ximeria.livejournal.com/). Many thanks to [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/) for brainstorming (me: I have this line and I don't know what to write! o: write [this]. me: okay) and [](http://dessert-first.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://dessert-first.livejournal.com/)**dessert_first** for beta. 450 words, give or take.

Ray hunched down in his seat and played it cool, just barely flicking his eyes to the right. "Huh?"

Fraser was fighting a grin and losing. "In the lining of your jacket. I think the filling is leaking."

"Damn it!" The jeep only veered a little as Ray struggled to pull the crumpled paper bag out of his jacket and set it between them with a disappointed groan. His fingers came away sticky, so he dangled his hand in the backseat. "Here, Dief. Strawberry-flavored pocket lint. Good stuff."

Dief seemed to think it was. He licked Ray's fingers clean, then rested his chin on the back of the seat, staring at the bag. Fraser was still snickering, so Ray shrugged and fished out a doughnut, then tossed it over his shoulder. It was gone in seconds, and Dief let out a happy little moan as he licked his muzzle clean.

Ray fished out another doughnut and took a big bite. "Uggded." He swallowed and tried again. "Busted. You want one?"

"I don't know why you keep trying," Fraser said as he selected a cruller. "You'll never get them past me."

"Hey, it's training. Keeps you working like the finely tuned detection machine you are."

"Ewy aafl uh oo," Fraser said around half-chewed doughnut.

"Yeah, I'm a thoughtful guy. And I'll get you. I've got a plan." Ray tapped the side of his nose, then winced and scrubbed away a smear of jelly.

 

****

 

Back home, Ray pulled to a stop by the barn and started unloading groceries to haul up to the cabin. He caught Dief's eye and nodded. Dief didn't nod back, but he barked twice, whined once, and started sniffing his way into the woods. It worked. Fraser trailed after Dief, insisting that it was far too early in the season for young snow geese to hatch, much less be in need of rescue.

Ray stopped unloading to grin to himself and savor the moment. The he shifted the spare tire and the fishing tackle, and drew out a large, nearly airtight wooden box. After double-checking that the coast was clear, he opened it and lifted out a big plastic bag. From inside the bag, he carefully pulled out a pink box.

He couldn't resist a shout of victory as he sprinted for the cabin, a baker's dozen doughnuts held high above his head. It had taken him almost two years, but he'd won. And people said he wouldn't adapt to life up here.

 

*


	5. Lessons in Modern Cinema: Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a prequel to ["Ray and Sunshine sounds like a disco band, Fraser, so come up with something else"](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/35422.html) and ["Sex and Cartoons"](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/40361.html), both co-written by [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/). Omphale also did beta duty for this snippet and gave me the title. I'm rather fond of her.

"She's scary."

"She's teething."

"Maybe she's a mutant."

"It's perfectly natural, Ray."

"You ever seen _The Thing_ , the Carpenter one?"

Fraser just looked at him, still bouncing the screaming baby.

"Yeah, right. Dumb question. That kid is not growing up without culture, Fraser. I put my foot down."

"Then this seems an ideal opportunity to start sharing your culture." Fraser held the baby out. Her face was blotchy and purple and Ray could see tonsils. Ray could see _stomach_.

Okay. He'd faced down the worst thugs in Chicago. He could do this. He cracked his neck and took her, Fraser showing him how to do it right. She was so _light_. And so _loud_. He tucked her into his arm and put a finger to her mouth, saying "Shhh." It sounded wrong, like he was telling her to freeze and put her hands up, not all soft like Fraser got when he talked to her. Still, it seemed to work. She gulped and took an unsteady breath and started gnawing on his finger.

"Ow, kid. Go easy." He glanced at Fraser. "Figures. Our kid's a cannibal."

"Protein is protein, Ray."

"You are one sick puppy," Ray said, before returning his attention to the baby. Her face wasn't as purple when she wasn't screaming. "Listen up, because I don't think we're getting cable any time soon. It's like 1982 and there's this research base way at the north pole. The guys stationed there, they're all bored and grungy and getting on each others' nerves. One day a helicopter appears..."

It wasn't easy, but the story had a happy ending.

 

*


	6. Addiction

A thing. A fragmentary ficlet-ish thing for [](http://ds-aprilfools.livejournal.com/profile)[**ds_aprilfools**](http://ds-aprilfools.livejournal.com/) prompt 20: helpless.

Addiction, F/K-ish, PG. Beta-type thanks to [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/), as usual. 497 words.

Ray's always had trouble concentrating. It helps that he's quick, but his brain tends to jump from topic to topic. It makes quitting smoking hell, although he supposes it must be hell for everybody, or else everybody would do it. But, for him, it's like every twenty seconds during every waking minute his brain says, "Hey! Do you know what would be neat? A cigarette!" And if he manages to squash down that voice, another pipes up, all innocently asking, "Hey! Do you know what would be cool? What if you rolled paper into a tube and filled it with something flammable but not too flammable and--" until he realizes what his brain is doing and shuts it down again. It happens over and over and over, though. A thought like thirst, a want he can't quite pin down that, when he focuses on it, turns out to be something he can't have.

Because he's quitting. For a million reasons, including, in a roundabout way, getting over Stella. Because Stella hated him smoking, so when she dumped him he smoked up a storm. Smoked for every cigarette he couldn't have when he was her husband. Who the fuck was he to care about class or the smell or the expense or his long term survival? His short term was tough enough, thanks very much.

But once he decided that saying 'Fuck Stella' through smoking was just another pathetic way of saying 'Stella, Stella, Stella, I need you' and he realized he couldn't walk up a flight of stairs without needing to catch his breath, much less run down three alleys, jump a fence and catch a purse snatcher without damn near killing himself, he decided to quit. Again.

He'd done it before, how hard could it be?

It's hard. Fucking hard, dull hard, stubborn hard. Not because it's stronger than he is, but because it's more persistent. It can always outlast him.

And, really, one vice he wanted 1500 times a day but couldn't have was plenty. It's pretty damn frustrating to suddenly have two.

But Fraser, insane as it sounds, is just like cigarettes. He's always there, an itch, an urge, a want that seems totally reasonable and an A-100% good idea for that half second before he remembers, every fucking time he remembers, why it isn't.

"Hey," his brain says, "You know what would be neat? Getting Fraser naked and sweaty." And there's that moment of pure _yeah!_ like he's figured out something important and good, before the rest of him says, "Oh, wait. Work, straight, partners, possibly asexual, Vecchio, really embarrassing," and he doesn't.

And then his brain says, "Hey! I could go for some kissing. How about kissing that tall, handsome guy in the red suit?" And he falls for it again, for one exhilarating second, before reality sets in.

It's exhausting, really. He wonders if it's like this for other people, but isn't sure how to ask.

 

My prompt [table.](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/35664.html)


	7. F/K snippet: Laundry, G, 206 words

F/K snippet for [](http://ds-aprilfools.livejournal.com/profile)[**ds_aprilfools**](http://ds-aprilfools.livejournal.com/) prompt 8: first meeting. Thanks to [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/) for beta.

Ray doesn't have any clean clothes. He's used to that; most of his stuff get worn a couple times, so 'clean' is relative. Specifically, he doesn't have any clothes that don't smell like smoke and sweat and booze and the floor of his apartment. So he's going to the laundromat. He'll at least have clean jeans and t-shirts for the new job. It might not be up to the previous guy's standards, but it's a big improvement for him.

By the time the guy in the red suit shows up, Ray's in the groove with this whole Vecchio thing. But when he throws his arms around Fraser and claps him on the back, Ray regrets not having had the coat cleaned, too. Even more so when he learns the stories about Fraser's super senses were true.

It's not 'til much later that he learns Fraser likes the smell of him, did from the beginning, even stale and musty him. But when he comes home to their apartment and hears Fraser's voice through the closet door, he doesn't buy Fraser's stammered excuses about wanting to be close to him. Fraser might like the way he smells, but Ray doubts the old guy in the furry hat does.

 

My prompt [table.](http://slidellra.livejournal.com/35664.html)


	8. Persistence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither snow nor sleet nor con crud will keep [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/)**omphale23** from her beta duties.

**Title:** Persistence  
 **Fandom/Pairing:** due South, F/K  
 **Rating:** R. NC-17. Something like that.  
 **Prompt:** Status quo  
 **Length:** 300 words  
 **Notes:** Neither snow nor sleet nor con crud will keep [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/) from her beta duties.

 

 

Ray is pushing inside him and he can't breathe. This is possible, he knows this is possible. He's quite familiar with the anatomy involved, and men have been doing this throughout history. He can do this.

He can't do this. He's exposed, his erection gone. The sensation is huge, the sheer volume of feeling more than he can stand. This is _his_ body, and Ray is pushing him out of it.

The sheets are already damp, clammy under his back, and it's all wrong.

He's fighting the urge to throw Ray off, gritting his teeth against it. When his eyes are open he sees the ceiling, dirty and white, and when they're closed it's too much. He tries to say 'Ray, I'm sorry, this is a mistake, _stop_ ,' but the words won't come.

His fingers tighten on Ray's shoulder and Ray stills and pulls back and Ray is beautiful, his mouth open, his eyes heavy-lidded. Ray blinks, bends his head to the side. "No?"

His fingers tighten further still and pull Ray closer.

Ray moans, breathy against his ear, then Ray is kissing his shoulder, his neck. He can hear Ray mumbling into his skin, can feel Ray's lips moving. He wants to. He does. He's wanted this for so long, but it's so difficult.

Ray shifts and kisses him, soft lips parted against his, both of them breathing hard. He presses his face to Ray's, taking in the familiar smell of him. He thinks of the cold silence and peace of home. He thinks of Ray. And he says, "Move."

"Don't have to," Ray pants. "Be okay."

He pushes up and Ray groans and maybe he can do this. Ray moves and it's better and Fraser starts to learn how to let Ray in.

 

 

*


	9. Pretrial Services

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/) **omphale23** wins at beta.

**Title:** Pretrial Services  
 **Fandom/Pairing:** due South, Fraser/Kowalski  
 **Rating:** R  
 **Word Count:** 286  
 **Prompt:** How to...  
 **Notes:** [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/) wins at beta.

 

Ray is very nearly overwrought, hyperactive motion and disjointed speech exaggerated to the point of farce. Fraser wonders if he's putting it on, if he's figured out Fraser's secret weapon.

That seems unlikely, however. Ray vehemently dislikes testifying, especially when his ex-wife is in the courtroom. Taking that into account, as well as Ray's emotional involvement in the Maloney case, it's not surprising he's on edge.

It won't do. Fraser has seen Ray on the stand many times, and has learned that a calm Ray, one who finds the right words at the right time, who doesn't twitch and fidget in his seat, is far more likely to impress.

While it pains Fraser to acknowledge such a flaw in the justice system, locking them both in a restroom stall and going down on his knees is no hardship. Ray has clearly not noticed a pattern, was not angling for this result, because he swats at Fraser's head, hissing about the trial. Fraser perseveres, fingers nimble on Ray's fine suit pants, and once his lips close around Ray's cock, Ray's struggles change.

Now Ray is the aggressor, his fingers tight in Fraser's hair as he works out his tension in Fraser's mouth. Fraser wraps a hand around Ray's cock and uses the combined action of mouth and hand to speed things along. It's always quick when Ray is in this state, and soon Ray is gasping and swearing, body taut and shaking as he comes, boneless immediately after. Fraser cleans him carefully, licking until Ray shudders and pushes him away.

After their clothes are presentable again, Ray reaches out with gentle fingers to smooth Fraser's hair back into place. "The things you do for justice, huh?"

 

*


	10. Chapter 10

93 words for [](http://nos4a2no9.livejournal.com/profile)[**nos4a2no9**](http://nos4a2no9.livejournal.com/).

 

  
The first was a farce, but Fraser thought Ray understood the symbolic value.

The second, Ray didn't know. But it was still the nicest Fraser could remember.

The third was an open secret. By then, they were well familiar with such things.

The fourth was on their adventure, and Fraser almost didn't recognize the feeling as joy, it was so strong.

The fifth, Fraser tried to forget. It didn't work.

The sixth, Ray kissed him until his lips bruised, and said, "Never leaving again. Ever."

Every birthday after, Ray kept his word.

 

 

(Sorry, a little angst snuck into your present.)

 

*


	11. Sweet Tooth

192 words of F/K for [](http://malnpudl.livejournal.com/profile)[**malnpudl**](http://malnpudl.livejournal.com/). For the prompt "The moment just before a first kiss. Your choice of F/K or Hugh/Callum." I, uh, couldn't quite stop in time. Oopsie. Hope you enjoy!

Thanks to [](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/profile)[**omphale23**](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/) (who wrote a wicked cool [RPS drabble](http://omphale23.livejournal.com/69672.html) because she didn't want Hugh and Callum to be left out of the fun) for beta.

  
Sweet Tooth

 

Ray's lips were lightly stained red and orange and green, as was the palm of his hand. He'd been playing with the candy, jiggling it in his closed fist, huffing warm breath on it as gamblers do with dice. After he'd warmed the candy in his palm, he'd toss it into his mouth, where he'd let the colored coating dissolve, making the oddest faces as he rolled the candy around with his tongue, tucking it into a cheek when he spoke.

As Ray pursed his lips thoughtfully, revealing a streak of blue, Fraser wondered if he could identify the flavor of the dye on Ray's skin. He'd familiarized himself with the most common artificial colorings, their properties and flavor, and had no very high opinion of their suitability as food, but he had little idea how such compounds would interact with Ray's skin, Ray's chemistry.

He was leaning forward, inspecting the traces of color on Ray's lower lip, when Ray said, "Jeez, _finally_ , Fraser," and brought their mouths together.

Oh! Oh. So that's what it tasted like. As Fraser licked his way into Ray's mouth, he decided this warranted further investigation.

 

*  


Check out the brilliant HCL snippet [](http://malnpudl.livejournal.com/profile)[**malnpudl**](http://malnpudl.livejournal.com/) wrote for me [here](http://malnpudl.livejournal.com/323559.html). (The story is, we made a bet with each other for a snippet. And we both managed to lose. Because we are very, very talented.)

OH! And I was not-smart and forgot to include a link to the, um, [inspiration](http://malnpudl.livejournal.com/320987.html?thread=4351451#t4351451). Courtesy of [](http://shoemaster.livejournal.com/profile)[**shoemaster**](http://shoemaster.livejournal.com/).


End file.
